


just synapses firing in our brains

by foundfamilyvevo, nothanksweregood (eavis)



Series: straight for your heart (wolfpack au) [10]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (non-graphic), Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, Hugs, Lovebites, Mentions of past abuse, OT5, Pack Cuddles, Panic Attacks, the haylor is background and also p one-sided fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10009112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundfamilyvevo/pseuds/foundfamilyvevo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eavis/pseuds/nothanksweregood
Summary: An investigation ordered by a spiteful rival pack brings old fears and issues to light for some pack members, while others struggle with distractions of a more pleasant nature.Or, Louis Gives Liam A Lot Of Lovebites and Harry Gets A Crush While Zayn Shakes His Head And Sighs A Lot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say a quick thank you to all of you who have read this and taken the time to leave a note - it is so incredibly encouraging and I appreciate it more than words can say. I hope you enjoy this latest installment!

 

 __Pain, just synapses firing in our brain  
So when you cut me, cut me deep  
Hurt the ones you love the most easily  
Cause in time we show our Achilles's heels

_ ~ power; bastille _

* * *

 

It’s Liam’s fault, really. Except for how it’s 100% Louis’ fault, because of the lovebites. But then, honestly, it’s Harry’s fault for making everything so complicated - or perhaps Zayn’s, for not seeing the warning signs and putting a stop to everything sooner. The one thing they’re all agreed on, united in this as ever, is that it’s definitely not Niall’s fault in any way, shape, or form.

Because, you see, Louis leans over one night, halfway through an argument during a loud game of Cluedo, and bites Liam quite hard in the neck, and that’s - well, it’s fine, obviously, Louis has always been sharp with his mouth. This is just sharp in a different way than Liam’s used to is all, and it makes him go very quiet and shivery-warm all evening. He can’t stop touching the tender spot all the next week and wishing it weren’t fading so quickly.

Louis notices, because of course he notices, and he corners Liam in the kitchen one night after dinner. “Are you alright there, Payno? Seemed a bit quiet the last couple days.” His eyes drift pointedly to where Liam’s hand is absently touching the edges of the bite, almost completely gone at this point, and Liam flushes hard and jerks his hand away.

“No, yeah, I’m - I’m good, thanks.”

“Are you sure about that, darling? You can tell me, y’know. If I’ve done something that’s made you uncomfortable. Zayn thinks I should’ve asked before I gave you that -” He nods to the bite. “- and I told him to stop being such a nan, but if it was bad for you, I really am sorry and I won’t do it again.”

Liam glances down for a second, biting at his lip, and his shoulders are a bit hunched but there's a smile at the edges of his mouth. "I - no, it's okay? Just. Startled me a bit. Really am okay, though." He looks up again, smile growing a little. "After all, how many people can say they've got a real life lovebite from Mister Louis Tomlinson?"

Louis relaxes, shoulders dropping as tension he hadn’t realised he’d been carrying releases. He asks, cheeky, “In that case, can I touch it?”

“‘S your fault it’s there,” Liam grumbles in a way he’s  _ clearly _ picked up from Niall and Harry, because he never would’ve come up with that insubordination by himself, but it’s an open enough invitation, so Louis reaches out like he’s going to poke at it, changing at the last second to swipe the edge of his thumb across it firmly.

Liam full-body shivers, like on a hot day when you’ve just run through the sprinklers and it feels so good your body has to take an extra second or two to catch up. Louis watches him, thumb still moving back and forth on the bite, absolutely delighted. “Wow. So you like that, then.”

Liam flushes again, looking caught out. “Sorry, is that - I didn’t mean to - is that okay?”

Louis steps closer, bringing his other hand to rub slowly across the softness of Liam’s stomach. “‘Course it’s okay. Whatever makes you feel good and safe with us is always okay.”

______

And that was the beginning of it, that moment in the kitchen, but Liam got into the habit, before pack functions, of coming to Louis and Zayn’s room for inspection and to get Zayn to tie his tie for him. Zayn would cinch it up tight and tug Liam’s head down for a lingering forehead kiss, reaching up afterwards to wipe away the lipgloss residue and step away to make room for Louis to surge forward and spend a great deal of time and attention marking Liam’s neck with lovebites.

It still makes Liam hot under the collar, all the high-ranking werewolves and witches and humans seeing him like this, with Louis draped protectively over him half the time, knowing who he belongs to in such a public way. Louis gets a tight, hard rush of satisfaction at their looks; his message loud and clear: This one is Ours. It’s the same feeling he gets when Zayn slides a hand into his back pocket or Niall sits on his lap when there are plenty of empty seats or Harry comes over and randomly licks his cheek.  _ His _ pack.

Perhaps nothing would have come of it after all that; after all, most packs are physical, and most of the old fashioned ones doubtless think Liam’s an unruly pack member who needs to be disciplined often. The slightly less old fashioned ones have been circulating rumours for months now that everyone in the Tomlinson-Malik pack are in violent sexual relationships with each other, so the fresh marks on Liam’s neck only make them all nod significantly at one another.

But there are always one or two of those persons who truly believe that their God-given role in life is to manage everyone else’s, and this means that they  _ must _ know the truth of every rumour going. In supernatural circles this was Letitia Cholmondeley, who was a Lady by birth and an incurable gossip by nature. She also happened to be on excellent terms with everyone who was anyone in the supernatural world, mostly because everyone was afraid to be on the receiving end of her inquisitive lorgnette and even more inquisitive verbal digs. 

Until now they had avoided her notice simply by virtue of the fact that they were beneath it, but the Malik name still carried some respect for the ancestry behind it if nothing else. Tomlinson was a name no one knew, but since re-entering supernatural society some months before, they had grown quickly notorious for their unusual pack arrangement. The rumours were growing to such a degree that she really could not afford to ignore them any longer, and so one evening she sailed over to interrogate Malik. As the well-bred one of the two, she expected him to comply respectfully and humbly with her demands for information, and was therefore shocked to the core to find that not only did he refuse to answer any of her questions, he also eyed her up and down with a very cold look indeed. As she put it later to a friend, “I really thought he might actually rip my head off. He had the most horrifically freezing look in his eye, and he actually growled at me! My dear, the  _ idea _ .”

Rebuffed, but not by any means dissuaded, Lady Cholmondeley assailed Tomlinson next. Low-blooded as he was, surely the fellow would have the breeding to recognise quality when he saw it. But in response to her gently hinted, “So what is the  _ real _ story with your...unusual methods of discipline, then?” he merely stared at her with a discomfiting smile and asked what she meant. She explained. He repeated that he still had not the pleasure of understanding her. She explained further, growing a little flustered herself as she sought for euphemisms fit for polite company. He still only looked at her with that same strange smile and replied that while he still did not understand what exactly she was getting at, he would be more than happy to show her the way to the ladies’ lav if she wanted privacy to “take the stick out of your arse.” Lady Cholmondeley was shocked beyond words that even someone so ill-bred would speak so crudely and retired to the drawing room for a soothing hour of gossip with various intimates of her acquaintance. 

Lady Cholmondeley made up her mind to try one of the omegas next, as everyone knew omegas were easy to intimidate, but to her annoyance they were perpetually hanging off of one or the other of their alphas in a vulgar display of sentimentality and thus she had no opportunity. After being politely stonewalled at every turn, she decided it was high time someone took matters into their own hands and called a meeting of various pack leaders, all of whom were particular friends of hers. They agreed that undoubtedly something must be done, but with modern times being what they were, they were not sure of their approach anymore. There was a great deal of arguing and even a little bit of scuffling (Lady Cholmondeley put a stop to that at once, of course), when the Marquis of Normanby, a thoroughly respectable man with a slight bad habit of turning into a hundred or so bats when he got overexcited, sensibly suggested an audit.

There was some protestation at first, of course, on the grounds that it was not nearly harsh enough and that it was not the traditional way, but the more it was discussed the more it was agreed that it was just the thing. “After all,” Augusta DeSalle said, smiling sweetly, “it is for their own good. That poor beta’s neck was simply  _ disgusting _ . The way they’re treating him is disgraceful, and someone ought to have put a stop to it ages ago.”

“So we are agreed, then,” Lady Cholmondeley said, looking around the circle and receiving approving nods in return. “Very well. I will contact Minister Chappey tomorrow and have him send someone suitable.” 

__________

The ‘someone suitable’ turns out to be a tall, blonde alpha in three inch heels who looks more like she ought to be a superstar instead of “Agent Swift, WPC.” She absolutely terrifies Liam and Niall. Liam manages to shake her hand and then mutters something about taking the dogs out and disappears. Niall, hating the fact that he’s doing it, that he can’t be stronger for this, hides behind Louis for the introductions and then hurries out on Liam’s heels. Harry doesn’t move from his place just behind Zayn, even though his eyes are wider than saucers.

“I had thought investigators were supposed to be non-weres, in the interest of non-partisanship,” Louis says, eyeing her coldly and somewhat resentfully from four inches down.

“My superiors deemed this an unusual enough case to waive that suggestion.” She gazes coldly right back, and Zayn takes a deep breath, stepping forward and pulling her eyes to him. 

“Thank you for the good work you do, Agent Swift.” He makes himself keep his voice calm and even. “We’ve made up a room for you here on the ground floor if you’d like to follow me.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do.” Her voice is perfectly polite but cold as ice. “I need complete access and this house is too large for there to be so much space between me and the people I’m investigating.” She pauses. “You understand, of course.”

“Of course,” Zayn cuts in before Louis can say anything disastrous. “We’ll - find you a room upstairs then.”

“She can have mine, Z,” Harry says quietly from behind them, and there’s something in his voice that makes Zayn frown at him thoughtfully and Louis scowl at him in a very black manner. Zayn treads hard on Louis’ foot and says, “That’s very thoughtful, thank you, Haz. Louis, will you give me a hand changing the sheets? Agent Swift, perhaps Harry could show you the garden while we get that ready for you.”

“This way,” Harry says eagerly, and Zayn sees Louis’ scowl darken further.

He kicks Louis in the ankle as soon as they’re alone and Louis yelps, looking at him in high dungeon. “What was that for? Thought we were supposed to be convincing her there  _ wasn’t _ abuse happening.”

“Well, it would probably  _ help _ if you weren’t glaring at her  _ and _ at Harry like you want to rip their throats out!”

“You saw how he was looking at her! Niall and Liam can’t even stand being in the same room as another alpha, much less someone from the WPC, and he’s just goggling up at her with - ha! - puppy dog eyes. I don’t trust her, Zayn.”

“Stop making this harder than it’s already going to be!  _ Damn _ it, Lou!”

Zayn’s chest is heaving, and something feels a little blurry at the edges of his vision. Louis is staring at him a little shocked, but as Zayn turns away, shoulders slumping and rubbing at his eyes, Louis is there, arms coming up tight around him. “I’m sorry,” he says, low and warm into his ear. “I’m sorry, love, of course I should have - this is even harder for you, isn’t it.”

He clings, burying his face in Louis’ neck where his comforting scent is strongest. “It’s bringing back - some stuff,” he manages, indistinct. “I thought I was done with all this crap, Lou, I thought I wouldn’t have to stand up in front of anyone ever again and list off all the things I’d done wrong this time. I thought I could do this a different way.”

“You have.” Louis’ voice leaves no room for debate, strong with conviction. “You have, my love, you’ve - we’ve done nothing wrong here. We’ve done well, and  _ you’ve _ done so well; I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come. This isn’t your uncle, and you’re not twelve years old anymore. This is you, now. This is us.”

“This is us,” Zayn repeats, quiet. He lets himself rest for another minute, Louis’ hands moving gently on his back, and then pulls himself upright, wiping at his eyes. “It’s a good thing,” he says, trying more to remind himself than anyone else, “It’s good they’re investigating claims of abuse.”

“Just not when it’s us, eh?” Louis’ mouth twists wryly. “C’mon, then. Let’s get the sheets changed on Harry’s bed.”

__________

Swift tells them to just carry on like she’s not there, but if she weren’t there Liam and Niall wouldn’t be tiptoeing around like ghosts in their own home, and Harry wouldn’t be spending all his available time making sure she wasn’t too hot or too cold or didn’t need a glass of water. Louis mostly bit his tongue, answering questions politely if tersely, and tried his best to keep the heat off Zayn. Unfortunately for this plan, she had clearly settled on Zayn as the most likely suspect in the case, and any attempts to stonewall her following Zayn were met with a cold stare and her nails clicking on the ever present clipboard. After only four days of this, they’re all subdued, Zayn and Liam especially walking around with hunched shoulders and dark circles under their eyes. Niall picks up extra shifts at work and is gone from the house as much as possible. Family dinners are subdued affairs, with only the clinking of cutlery and quiet requests for the salt or pepper breaking up the silence. Harry tries to keep on with normal conversation, but Niall simply doesn’t answer and Liam is scarcely any better and it generally ends up dying off pretty quickly.

They make an attempt - movie night - to pretend like she’s just a normal guest, and for a few minutes it works, her and Harry bantering about which rom-com is the most romantic, the rest of them squabbling quietly about who’s eating more popcorn. Until she reaches for some popcorn at the same time as Liam and he jerks back too fast, popcorn going everywhere and all other conversation abruptly silenced.

Liam turns a dull shade of red and looks pleadingly at Zayn, but it’s Louis who says cheerfully, “Good idea, Leemo. I’ll make some more popcorn and we can have a snowball fight. Brilliant.”

“That’s wasteful,” Harry protests. “There’s lots of hungry werewolves in India who -”

“I never said we wouldn’t eat it afterwards.” Louis waggles his eyebrows at them and everyone groans automatically.

“Gross, Lou.” Niall’s nose is wrinkled. “I’m not touchin’ anything that’s been near your ugly mug.”

“You love it,” Louis says, unperturbed, and there’s another shower of popcorn as he dives on Niall, licking his face obnoxiously.

Everyone freezes as Swift clears her throat, one of Louis’ hands on Niall’s chest and one of Zayn’s on his ankle, Harry and Liam stopped in the act of jumping into the fray. “I’m sorry,” she says, and for a wonder she actually sounds it, “I was just going to suggest making some snowballs out of yarn - then you don’t have to worry about wasting food or, ah, eating it afterwards.”

There’s a slightly awkward silence before Harry, all enthusiasm, says, “That sounds great!”

“We don’t have any yarn,” Louis says, looking like he’s really working to keep his face from glaring.

“I have some we could use, if you wanted.” She looks almost - hesitant, glancing from Harry to Louis to Zayn. “It’s - I mean, it’s brown, so it’s not quite right, but it would work.”

“Mudballs,” Harry says, very quietly, and snorts. Louis, without looking, goes to hit him in the balls and then stops, turning it into a pat to his thigh instead, glancing quickly at Swift.

Fortunately, she seems not to notice, standing up and smiling at them (mostly at Harry). “I’ll get the yarn then.”

“Thanks, Taylor,” Harry calls after her, and they all stare at him.

“Taylor?” Louis repeats, sounding disbelieving.

“It’s her name,” Harry says, defensive. “I’m just trying to be polite. She asked me to call her that.”

“And you didn’t think it was - “ Louis cuts himself off, shaking his head. “This is a conversation we’ll be having later,” he warns, his eyes cutting to the other three and then back, significantly, before turning to Niall and Liam and saying quietly, “You don’t have to stay, if you’d rather not. You can just go up to your rooms, if you’d rather.”

They look at each other for a long minute, and then Niall shakes his head. “We’ll stay with you,” he says, and his hands are trembling, but his voice is firm. 

“Could I - between you and Zayn?” Liam asks, biting at his lip. 

“‘Course, love.” Louis moves, sliding to leave enough room for Liam between them; holds out a hand for Niall. “Would you rather your chair?” He asks, voice gentle as he runs his thumb over the back of Niall’s hand. “Sight lines are better, but you’re welcome to sit with us, if you’d like.”

Niall hesitates, thinking. “Maybe - if she switches with Harry? And then I could be here on the floor and she could have the other chair and - she can’t move fast from that chair.”

Zayn nods at Harry, who moves at once to vacate his chair, coming to sprawl half on top of Zayn’s other side. Still the side closest to ‘Taylor,’ Louis can’t help noting, but for now he lets that go, focusing on settling Niall on the floor in a way that won’t make his knee stiffen up again. He’s just got him comfortable with a pillow underneath him and one propping up his leg and his head leaning against Louis’ thigh in the perfect position for head pets when Swift comes back down, three or four things of yarn in her arms.

“Have you got some scissors and some cardboard?” 

She doesn’t make any comment about the change in seating positions beyond a raised eyebrow at Niall on the ground, and Harry quickly springs up to fetch the things she wanted, distracting her with questions about the project. Louis and Zayn exchange a long look, Louis wondering if she’s going to take Niall being on the floor as a symptom of something bigger and worse, and Zayn simply responding with a helpless shrug. They’re not going to tell him he can’t sit where and however makes him comfortable, and if she has a problem with that then they’ll deal with it.

It’s - a little easier, after that. Feels like they have a little more room to breathe, not so much like they’re locked in a room full of nothing but chicken feathers and have to find a way out without choking on them. Swift keeps eyeing Liam especially with a frown, but even Louis has to grudgingly admit that Harry’s doing a fantastic job pulling her attention away from Liam and Niall and even Zayn and onto himself. Louis does question whether it needs to involve quite so much whispering and giggling in corners, but under the circumstances he supposes whatever gets the job done.

And then five days in, Niall has a panic attack. Agent Swift had just cornered Zayn as he was working on weeding the roses, opening with, “I have some concerns about Liam. Your - beta, I believe?” And Zayn is bracing himself to do this, trying to keep Louis’ words from five days ago securely in the forefront of his brain, when Harry trips out of the back door, eyes wide and voice trembling as he says, “Zayn, hurry, it’s Niall - “

Zayn is shoving past Swift and through the still-open door into the kitchen before Harry can finish, following the tugging underneath the still-raw tattoo of a kiss to where Niall is on the floor by the fridge, shaking hands pulling his legs up close, eyes wide and wild and red-rimmed. Zayn’s knees hit the ground in a way he knows he’s going to be feeling later, but right now he couldn’t care less. “Hey, hey, Niall, I’m here, I’m here, babe.” He reaches for Niall, smoothing his hands down the fronts of Niall’s shins as an established safe place to touch. “Breathe with me, sunshine, c’mon now.”

“One of the dogs knocked a vase over,” Harry says, voice a low murmur from somewhere behind Zayn. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t catch it in time. I’m so sorry, Niall.”

“It’s - not your fault,” Niall gasps out, and he’s still shaking from head to foot. His eyes are pleading when they find Zayn’s and his voice is wretched as he says, “I’m sorry, Zayn, I tried to - I tried an ice pack and - I didn’t want to, with the lady, I’m so sorry, I tried - “

“Shh, easy, oh babes, I know you tried. Don’t worry about her, love, just breathe with me, yeah? Deep breath in, c’mon now.”

Niall obediently drags in one breath and then another before he’s starting again, hands scratching too hard at his thighs as he fights for control. “Liam was just here, I’m really - I’m worried about him, Zayn, he’s not okay either, he needs - “

“Hey, hey, let me worry about Liam, my love, it’s all right, I’ll take care of it, but I need you to breathe some more for me, okay? Can you hold my hand or is touching not good?”

Niall reaches for it with both of his own in answer, clinging hard and doing his best to follow the breathing pattern Zayn sets. “‘s Lou almost home?”

His voice is still thready and Zayn winces at it internally, making sure his face is nothing but reassuring as he glances at Harry for the answer.

“I texted him. Less ‘n ten minutes now.” Harry’s hovering in the background, and Zayn dimly registers Swift is still in the doorway, but his priority here is Niall, not making sure he’s doing everything by the book.

“You want Lou to stay with you, then?” Zayn’s careful to keep his voice non-judgmental, because he doesn’t mind, mostly, that Niall still defaults to wanting Louis when he’s like this, but. It’s just that little part that isn’t covered by ‘mostly’ that’s intensified by everything that’s happened this week, and he’s almost surprised by the depth of his reluctance to cede care of Niall to Louis.

But Niall squeezes his hand until Zayn meets his eyes, and his voice is mostly under control, slurring his consonants only a little as he says, “The state Li’s in, jus’ think he’d do better with you than Lou right now.”

Zayn’s breath comes out like a punch, and he feels a tight coil of shame in his belly over being jealous of Louis and Niall’s relationship when Niall’s in a bad way and Liam’s somewhere by himself probably having a breakdown. There’re more important things than his issues here. Niall must read some of that in his face, though, because he shakes his head a little, leaning forward to nudge their lips together. His lips are dry despite the tubes of chapstick Liam makes sure they have, but their touch is gentle and Zayn lets himself breathe into it, taking the absolution on offer along with the kiss.

The front door opens and shuts and Louis is there, brushing past Swift still stood in the doorway like she’s not even there and shrugging off his bags and coat in one go, dropping beside them with his eyes all for Niall. “Alright, love?”

Niall smiles at him, a dimmer version of his usual star-bright Louis-smile; gently disentangles his hands from Zayn’s to reach for Louis. “Sorry t’ make such a fuss.”

Louis gathers him close, tucking in stray limbs, careful as ever of Niall’s knee. “What’ve we said, then?”

His voice is faux-chiding, an undercurrent of relief that Niall’s not as bad in the aftermath as he would have been even two months ago, and Niall rolls his eyes even as he repeats dutifully, “I don’t need t’ apologise for not being okay or for needing help.”

“There’s a lad,” Louis says, giving Niall a cheerful squeeze. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfy than this floor, eh?” He stands, Niall still bundled in his arms despite them being more or less the same size. Sometimes the werewolf thing does come in handy.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check on Liam. Niall thinks he might’ve gone off by himself somewhere.” Zayn can’t resist wrapping a hand around Niall’s ankle and giving it a parting squeeze. Niall offers a tired smile in return. 

“Thanks, Z,” he murmurs, freeing one hand from around Louis’ neck in order to tug him close enough for another quick kiss.

“Let me know if you need anything.” Louis shifts Niall a bit in his arms, leans in sideways for a kiss of his own. “Love you, thanks for taking care of him.”

“Love you,” Zayn echoes and follows Harry’s significant look up the stairs, putting aside the still lingering feelings of hurt over his easy replacement in order to focus on the other pack member that needs him. 

Liam’s in his closet, shoved as far towards the back as he can get with his headphones over his ears and tear stains on his cheeks. He’s wearing one of Zayn’s hoodies, and Zayn feels his chest ache. He knocks gently on the doorframe, giving Liam a heads up before he crosses to kneel in front of him, holding out his hands. “Liam, babe, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, it was my fault with Niall, and I didn’t even stay and help, I just left and - “ Liam makes a single, abrupt motion towards taking Zayn’s hands before pulling them away, tucking them tightly beneath his thighs instead.

Zayn frowns, reaching to thumb away the fresh tears rolling slowly towards Liam’s nose. “Love, if you don’t want to hold hands right now, that’s fine, but if you’re not because you think you ought to be punished for something someone else did to Niall, ages ago, that’s not okay, like.”

Liam looks caught out, his whole body tensing and teeth biting savagely at a lip that looks like it’s already been abused enough for one day. Zayn sighs, tugging it out from between his teeth and moving a hand to rest, heavy, on the back of Liam’s neck. It has the looked-for effect of releasing some of the tension from Liam’s shoulders, his body responding to his alpha’s touch in a way that Liam can’t quite manage out of his own head, yet. “Why do you think it’s your fault, Liam?”

Liam doesn’t meet his eyes as he explains, haltingly, “We were - just chatting in the living room, and I knew the dogs needed to go out, but Agent Swift was outside with you, and I didn’t want to see her, and they - they started wrestling and knocked the vase over, and Niall - and this whole mess was my fault anyway, and - “ He breaks off, hiding his face in his drawn up knees.

“I see.” Zayn nudges at Liam’s chin with his free hand until Liam reluctantly meets his eyes. “Liam, Niall’s having a panic attack was not your fault. You couldn’t have known the dogs would break that vase, and we’ve talked about how you’re not responsible for things that other people did to Niall.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “And this whole thing with the WPC isn’t your fault, either. You didn’t do anything wrong, babes.”

“But if I hadn’t - hadn’t liked it so much, when Louis - “ He stops again, face going red.

“You can like whatever you like, yeah?” Zayn is very firm on this point. “You weren’t hurting you or anyone else. It’s no one else’s business, and I’m really sorry it’s gotten exacerbated like this. You shouldn’t be made to feel ashamed of what makes you feel loved, Liam.”

“I wish - “ Liam’s twisting his hands together anxiously, and Zayn moves to capture them both in his own, thumb swiping back and forth on the thin skin of Liam’s wrist. 

“You wish,” he encourages.

“I just - I wish we could just say screw them, they’ve not got any business doing this to us, but - that’s not fair, is it? I mean, it's good for - for some people that there are people like Agent Swift, who make sure they're okay, yeah? I just hate that. That they think you or Lou would ever hurt us."   
  
"They don't know me or Louis," says Zayn, as gently as he can. “They don’t know that you’re safe with us, so they have to - check, but it's not personal for me, yeah? I'm not hurt. I have found it a little hard, like, because this stuff can - it brings some stuff back, for me. But they can’t do anything to us, alright? They’re not going to take you away, and this’ll be over soon and we’ll go back to normal.”

Liam’s eyes still look suspiciously damp, but he nods. "Can I - could I have a hug? Before we have to go back down?"

“‘Course, babe, always. Thank you for asking, that was so good.”

_____

After dinner, Agent Swift clears her throat, asks calmly if she can speak privately with Zayn for a few minutes. All background chatter stops dies off, and Zayn can feel Louis take a step forward.

“Sure, yeah. Outside okay?” He makes sure to touch Louis’ wrist on his way past, reassurance and warning both in one.

Agent Swift looks at him squarely once they're seated in on the back steps, hands clasped over one knee and looking just as much at ease as though she were in a parlour in her gran's house. "First off, I eavesdropped on your conversation with Liam, and I have some questions."  
  
Zayn meets her gaze, frowning a little. "I didn't hear you," he says, slow.  
  
"You wouldn't have," she says. "I've got a charm from a friend so I can listen in on alphas without them knowing. It comes in handy in this line of work."  
  
Zayn's jaw sets, but. He reminds himself that this is a good thing in general, even if it feels like someone filmed him showering or something without asking. He nods and waits for her to go on.  
  
"Do you require Liam to ask before he is given physical contact?" She’s blunt with it, but he can see what looks like actual concern in her eyes. 

  
And that’s - okay, replaying their earlier conversation he can hear how it might sound from the outside. He chews his lip and shakes his head slowly. "It's more complicated than that, um." He fiercely doesn’t want to talk about Liam like this, with a stranger who can’t possibly know how hard his journey’s been, but he knows she won’t just be satisfied with that and so he continues, stumbling a little, "We - when Liam came to us, he was in a strange place in regards to knowing whether touch is okay, or something he could - initiate, and this is what works."  
  
Agent Swift raises an eyebrow, but leaves it for now. "Okay. Which leads me to my next question, which I am sorry for, but I'm afraid I have to ask. Is there a sexual relationship of any kind between you and any of your packmates or your co-alpha and any of your packmates?"  
  
"No," says Zayn, confident but not defensive. This question at least he's been slightly prepared for.  
  
Agent Swift nods, and there's a small smile at the corners of her mouth. "I didn't think so, but Lady Cholmondeley was very insistent that you all were in some sort of obscene five-way relationship and told me I needed to put a stop to it."  
  
Zayn smirks, shrugs his shoulders. "She's got to project onto someone, I guess."  
  
Agent Swift laughs out loud at that, and then claps a hand over her mouth, looking surprised. Her mouth twitches as she replies, mock sternly, "I am not at liberty to discuss Lady Cholmondeley’s personal life, Alpha Malik." She pauses and drops a slow wink. "Between you and me, though, I think you might be right." She sits back, clasping both hands around her knee and her voice is less like an interrogator's as she goes on, "I was very impressed with the way you handled both Niall and Liam earlier. Can you walk me through your usual response to emotional trauma or difficulty on their end?"  
  
Zayn tries to keep his breathing steady, reminds himself that she’s said she was impressed, and that it’s not ten years ago, that he’s allowed to run his pack differently now. "Well, um. I respond differently to Niall and Liam, obviously - because they have very different needs, uh." He tries to organise himself. "In the end it comes down to base concepts, like? I make sure they're okay - when Niall's panicking he has trouble breathing, and Liam can start to really berate himself when he gets worked up, so. Calm them from those responses first."  
  
Agent Swift's nodding, looking thoughtful. She gestures for him to go on.

"Um. And then - it depends. Niall often doesn't want to talk about it after, and that's okay for him, but - where I can push Liam without hurting him? I try to, because he just. Spirals on it, otherwise."  
  
"You realise this is not a conventional method of dealing with your pack, yes?" She doesn’t sound disapproving exactly.

"I'm aware," says Zayn. It comes out - quieter than he'd like.  
  
Agent Swift hums a little. "I'll need to talk to each of your packmates one-on-one, of course, and I'll still be required to stay the full week, but I can tell you now that I don't anticipate any problems clearing you and your pack."  
  
Zayn lets out a breath and leans forward, resting his face in his hands for a moment  
because - shit. He hadn’t realised how anxious he'd been about the result until she said that.  
  
"You're a good alpha, Zayn," Taylor says softly, "you and Louis both." It's the first time she's used his first name while addressing him.  
  
And he suddenly, childishly, feels like crying at that. He doesn’t need validation from this strange woman, but - sometimes it's nice to have a little bit of affirmation when it seems like everyone on the outside is telling you you're doing the wrong things. He clears his throat, tries to sound normal. "Thank you."  
  
"I feel much better about clearing you and leaving people in your care than a lot of the people I do this for." She sounds faintly bitter as she adds, "It's almost harder when there's no clear abuse so there's really no legal way to get these poor beings away from places where they're clearly lacking clear affection."  
  
He feels a sudden surge of understanding, because what she’s saying is exactly what he’s been thinking and feeling for years now. "It's a hard job," he tells her. "The one you do, it’s - hard. But - it's good there are people doing it.” He pauses, because this is something he’s only ever said to Louis, but. "I wish there had been something like it for one of mine, before he was with us. Things could've been so much easier for him."  
  
Her eyes close, and she looks genuinely sorry as she says, "I know, I'm sorry. We try but - there are always going to be people we miss, situations we come into too late."  
  
Zayn nods. They’re all just doing the best they can. “Any other questions for me?”

She hums again thoughtfully. "I know simply my being here is disruptive to you and your pack, and that I'm not likely to be - what is it called? Bosom friends? With you, but do you think you could chat with your fellow alpha and maybe ask him to dial the glares back to a seven or eight? I don’t mind for myself; I’m used to it, but I think it's upsetting your Harry."  
  
Zayn cracks a smile. "Yeah. Can do. Sorry about him, it's - his way of keeping us safe."  
  
"Oh, I completely understand, given the circumstances. Honestly, I'd probably do the same in his place." Agent Swift stands and stretches a little. "Thank you for your time, Alpha Malik."  
  
"And you for yours," says Zayn, but he stays seated. He needs a few minutes by himself after that.  
  
Taylor makes her way up the stairs to the room they’ve given her for the week. She’s considerably more tired than it seems the day warrants, especially given that it’s only eight o’clock. She’s just turning the corner on the landing when Harry comes barrelling around it, just barely missing knocking her completely over.

He trips spectacularly, sprawling at her feet and looking up at her with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to run you over.”  
  
"You're fine, Harry." Taylor's face softens into a genuine smile, and she’s glad it was Harry and not one of the others, none of whom would be smiling at her like this. "In a hurry?"  
  
"Not really," says Harry and then shrugs, adds, "wondered where you were."  
  
"Talking to your alpha, actually," Taylor says, keeping her voice light.  
  
Harry’s face does something complicated before it smooths into a familiar cheeky smile. “Which one?"   
  
"Zayn," Taylor says, watching Harry curiously. "I was asking him some questions. I was happy with the answers, in case you were wondering."  
  
"Oh," says Harry, and that expression is definitely relief. "Yeah, that's - great. Zayn's so great, honest."  
  
"I'm starting to get that," she says, smiling a little. "You love him a lot, don't you?"  
  
“Yeah." His face has gone all private and happy in a way that she’s only seen when he’s talking about one of his boys, very different from the sly grins and cheeky expressions he’s offered her. “Yeah, I do.”  
  
"Well!” She smiles, trying to break the thick heaviness that’s descended between them. “I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a little - what do you Brits say? Peckish? Does your pack believe in ice cream?"  
  
"We are religious supporters of ice cream," says Harry at once. "Shall I get us some?"  
  
"Would you be so kind?" She asks, accent purposefully a horrible imitation of his own.  
  
“I don’t sound like that,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling as he leads her into the kitchen, so he can’t be that upset.

____

It’s a week or so later that Zayn gets home from work to find Louis and Harry going at it hammer and tongs in the living room. He hardly has time to shrug his satchel off before they’re both on him, voices rising in an attempt to be heard over the other.

Zayn looks from one to the other, heaviness settling in his bones, and he lets out a long sigh before insisting, in his strongest voice that isn’t actually alpha-voicing them, “I need fifteen minutes to check on Niall and Liam. Both of you go to your rooms and take some deep breaths while you’re waiting.”

Louis and Harry shoot each other 'this is  _ your _ fault' looks, but they both obey, slinking ahead of him up the stairs.

Zayn takes another deep breath, steadying himself and reaching down to rub Rhino’s head as he comes up to greet him, tail going furiously. “Least there’s no drama with you, bud,” he mutters. Rhino leans heavily against his legs, eyes large and liquid on him. “Right,” Zayn shakes himself. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

 

Niall comes to the door when he knocks, the door open enough that Zayn can see Liam still sat on the middle of the bed with his eyes tight shut and the volume up so loud on his iPod that it's audible from three feet away.

"Hi, Nialler." Zayn smiles at him wearily. "Rough day, huh?"

Niall makes a face. "Lou and Harry've been at it since we got home. Bit -" He makes a handwavey sort of motion and then makes it again at head level. "Y'know. Loud." Doesn't just mean the literal volume.

"Yeah," says Zayn, "”M gettin’ that, like. How’re you doing?" Adds, casual, almost, "Missed you."

"Bit stressy, but. 'S okay. Chilling with Liam." He aims a fond smile at the still oblivious Liam. "I missed you too." Then, softer, "Wish they weren't fighin', of course."

"Yeah." Zayn slips inside, glancing at Liam. “Can you -”

 

"I've got it." Niall scrambles back onto the bed and taps twice, gently, on the back of Liam's hand. Liam startles only a little, opening his eyes and smiling when he sees Niall. Niall makes the 'headphones off' gesture and says cheerfully, "Zayn's home, Leemo." He nods his head toward to door.

"Zayn!" Liam says happily, pulling off his headphones completely and clambering off the bed. He trips in a fallen blanket and almost falls headlong.

Zayn laughs, catching him around the waist. “Hi, babes, hi. Good to see you."

"You too," Liam says, and it's even more warm and enthused than usual as he flings his arms around Zayn's neck. The lack of hesitation is pretty indicative of how anxious he’s been all afternoon, and his face is all scrunched and worried as he pulls back enough to ask, "You'll make Lou and Haz stop fighting, right, Zayn?"

Zayn holds Liam tight, breathing in the comforting home smell of him. "I’ll do what I can. Thank you for sticking together and helping each other out."

"Not exactly hard with this one, is it?" Niall smiles, reaching up to ruffle Liam's hair. "Watched a bit of Friends, played around with music a bit. 'S good."

Zayn smiles at both of them before asking, "D’you know what Harry and Louis were even fighting over? They were both talking at me the moment I walked in the door and I had no idea what they were on about."

Liam's face falls. "it's about - about Taylor." He stops, then, worrying at his lip.

"It's not Liam’s fault, is it, Zayn?" asks Niall immediately, sliding an arm around Liam’s waist and rubbing his stomach comfortingly.

 

"’Course not," Zayn says at once. "Only ever their own faults that they're fighting."

"Louis kept saying my name," Liam mumbles, hand finding Niall’s on his stomach and giving it a bit of a squeeze in thanks.

Zayn frowns, leaning in to drop a firm kiss to Liam’s temple. "His problem, still, whatever it is," he promises. "I'm going to talk to them and get this all sorted out."

Liam clings a bit, burrowing a little as best he can while still holding onto Niall, and Zayn holds on just as tightly, opening an arm to gather Niall in, too. "Love you both.”

"Love you," Niall says, lips moving warm and a bit scratchy against Zayn's throat. Liam just hums in reply, arms tight around both of them.

Zayn lets himself breathe with them for a couple of minutes before stepping back, straightening his shoulders. "Okay. I have to go sort this out."

“Can come back and hide with us if you need," Niall offers, only half joking. "Good luck."

Zayn grins, ruefully. “Might take y’ up on that.”

Louis is pacing angrily when Zayn knocks on the door of their room, fists clenching and unclenching and his hair's a regular bird's nest from running his hands through it.

Zayn is inside and closing the door before he diffuses Louis the best way he knows how,

even though it's a bit of a low blow. "Hey. You know Liam and Niall have been huddled together in Niall's room since you and Haz decided to start World War Three in our living room?"

Louis stops mid-stride. His face twists, like he's fighting between giving in to the shock of guilt and the desire for his righteous anger to be upheld. "I didn't mean to upset them," is what he settles on, lips pressing together. "But Zayn - Harry is being a complete little tosser."

"I have met Harry before, yes," Zayn agrees wryly. "What more than usual, though?"

"Did  _ you _ know he's been talking to that Taylor Swift person?" Louis demands, hands coming up to grab at his hair again.

"No," Zayn says, a little surprised. "How'd you find out?"

"He was on the phone with her when we got home." Louis is pacing again, bare feet stomping almost ridiculously along the worn carpet. "I asked who he was talking to, just, y’know, making conversation, and he jumped two feet in the air and fumbled the phone and I saw her name on the screen."

“Okay," says Zayn slowly. "And then what happened?"

"Then I started yelling at him," Louis admits, looking guilty. "I - said some things I probably shouldn't've. About how he was - flirting with the enemy. And didn't he care about Liam. And - things like that."

Zayn bites back the urge to groan. He’ll love Louis until the end of his days but he can be so unnecessarily provoking sometimes.

"That would have really, really stung him," Zayn says instead. He tries to make it a statement, not an accusation.

"Didn't seem to," Louis huffs, and he sounds really indignant now. "He said some shit about Liam being scared of all alphas, even Brez, and that Taylor was really perfectly nice and none of us gave her a chance, just hated her right off, and if Liam got to know her he'd probably like her." Louis grits his teeth. "Like it's Liam's fault he can't stand being alone with an alpha, like Harry's stupid little crush will magically fix all Liam's hurts!"

"Louis," Zayn says as soothingly as he can, and Louis' shoulders slump a little as he mutters, “Wish you'd gotten home first. Been better for everyone."

"Maybe so, yeah. What's done is done, though, bro. Gotta deal with the here ‘n now, like.”

"Yeah," Louis says. He sounds quiet and a bit miserable now. "I - I am sorry I. Upset Liam and Niall, really. I'll apologise to them. And to. Harry. If - you think I should."

"I'll talk to Harry first, but I think that’s - a good idea, probably." Zayn says. "Before that, though - do you really dislike Taylor that much? Because - just in case something does happen with her and Harry."

Louis looks like he’s choking down hard on whatever his initial reaction to the question was. Says stiffly, "I don't have any personal objection to her, I suppose."

Zayn looks at him a minute, frowning. "Somehow you're not selling me on this.”

"It's a -" Louis waves a hand, shoulders tight. "Thing. My thing. Issue. Whatever. I don't like her, but I think it's a lot because I can't sort out what's just my stupid crap and what's actually, y'know, objections to her. And Harry caught me off guard and I yelled. Quite a lot."

"Well, our policy tends to be to talk to each other about our issues rather than letting them build up until we shout at each other," Zayn points out. "So if you would like to talk about it..."

Louis hesitates. "I - yeah. I will, promise. Wanna - should probably do it as a pack, too, but - best to get this other mess I've made sorted first, yeah?"

"Okay," agrees Zayn. “Hey. Love you, man.”

"Love you too," Louis says, sighing a little. "I’m sorry about the mess. I'll go talk to Liam and Niall?"

"Yeah. Gentle with ‘em," Zayn reminds him. "I'll find Harry."

“Thanks.” Louis moves in for a hug before he leaves, and Zayn hugs him back, chin resting easily on his shoulder and arms tight around his back.

 

“Really am sorry about the mess. Made a proper hash of it, I have.” 

 

“To err is human,” Zayn says solemnly, and Louis pulls back to eye him suspiciously. 

“Is that Shakespeare? That sounds like Shakespeare.”

Zayn can’t help but laugh. “Worse, actually. ‘s from a famous essay. Alexander Pope’s the author. Still think you’d like Shakespeare if y’gave it a try, mate.”

Louis pulls a face. “Don’t understand what they’re going on about. The human thing at least makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Zayn sighs, leaving the Shakespeare question aside for now, “hard to remember when you’re beating y’self up for something, though.”

Louis holds tighter for a minute, humming his agreement into Zayn’s collar before stepping back, taking in a deep breath. “Right. Off to apologise, then. Good luck with Harry.”

______

Harry is, predictably and somewhat understandably, upset. The main theme of his complaints seem to centre around Louis and the rest of them ‘not even giving Taylor a chance,’ and ‘it wasn’t her fault; she was just doing her job.’ Zayn mostly just listens until it seems like Harry’s talked himself out, and then he says, as gently as he can, “Those are fair arguments, Haz, but I think there are maybe a couple things you’re not adding to that equation, yeah?”

Harry crosses his arms, looking away.

Zayn sighs, reaching out to circle a hand around Harry’s ankle. “There were reasons some of your packmates didn’t feel like giving her a chance.” He holds up his other hand, forestalling any protests, “I’m not saying all of the reasons were legitimate. But they deserved to have them listened to and validated as much as yours, love.” More gently, he says, “Can you understand why Liam especially would have had such a hard time giving her a chance?”

“I guess,” Harry mutters, then he goes on, indignant all over again, “but Louis could’ve been nicer! All he did the whole week was glare at her!”

“Babe.” Zayn waits for Harry to meet his eyes. “Louis was worried about Liam and Niall. You know that. He was wrong to yell at you like he did, but neither of you have the high ground about this. Liam should be able to work through his fears and worries about other alphas without the pressure of having one actively looking for him to do something wrong or exist in a way they didn’t like. Whether or not Taylor was nice or a good person didn’t really matter for him.” He adds softly, “I think the fighting upset him and Niall quite a bit.”

Harry looks actually sorry for the first time. “Liam didn’t - he didn’t hear what I said about him and alphas, did he? I really didn’t mean that, truly, Zayn.”

“I don’t think he did.” Zayn pauses. “But you might apologise to him anyway, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I - I just. I really like her, Z. I know she probably just thinks I’m a silly kid, and I know the long distance thing wouldn’t work anyway, but.”

“You like her,” Zayn finishes, soft.

“Yeah.” His sigh is happy this time, and Zayn stifles a sigh of his own.

“Maybe don’t mention her, just for a while, yeah? Just until things calm down, like.”

Harry doesn’t look at all happy about it, but he agrees.

______

It’s Niall who notices what’s going on underneath the surface, who catalogues the minute flinches every time someone brings up Taylor or Jessica or even Nick, sometimes, and comes up to Louis after dinner, bumping a hip into his easily and asking, “Mind if we have a bit of a cuddle time tonight? Just us?”

"'course. Always up for a cuddle with my Nialler. Your room or mine? Or the couch?"  
  
"...mine?" Niall asks.  
  
Louis raises an eyebrow, but nods. He pokes his head in the living room to let Liam and Harry know and follows Niall up the stairs.    
  
Niall is already fidgeting, just short of pacing, when they get to his room and Louis comes in the door and stops, frowning a little. "What's going on, love? You okay?"  
  
"I - um. Yeah. Here." Niall sits down on his bed, pats the bed beside him in invitation.  
  
Louis sits down. "Really a cuddle or just holding hands or what do you want?" He smiles a little. "How d'you want me, Niall?"  
  
Niall leans sideways and rests his head on Louis's shoulder with a soft sigh, nudging Louis's arm around his waist.  
  
"There we go," Louis says cheerfully, "what's on your mind, love?"  
  
"Um. You might be mad,"  Niall sounds hesitant, and his hands are fidgeting uneasily with the edge of his shirt.

Louis holds back his instinctive 'never' and says instead, "I don't reckon I will be; never been mad at you yet, have I? But even if it's upsetting I can promise not to yell, alright?"  
  
Niall lets out a breath. "Okay, seems fair," he says. "Um - you. I was wondering if - is there something more to you not wanting Taylor here?"  
  
"What d'you mean by that?" Louis asks, frowning a little.  
  
"Is - I know it's a bit for Liam, and I get that, of course I do," says Niall, fingers twisting hard around each other. "But - is there anything? Else?"  
  
"Another reason why I go all shirty whenever anyone brings her up, do you mean?" Louis asks dryly, reaching out and tangling Niall’s fingers with his own instead.

Niall laughs a little."I guess, yeah."  
  
"Reckon there is," Louis says slowly, wondering how much Niall really wants to know, if he knows what he's getting into with all Louis’ crap baggage. "Got a bit of - stuff. About people. Y'know. Leaving."  
  
Niall frowns, and then his face softens into understanding. "Oh." And then, "Oh, Lou. s' not like Harry's gonna leave us cause he likes her."  
  
"Yeah, right, of course," Louis says. "I mean, 's just one of those things, yeah? Proper afraid you're all just going to bugger off someday for bigger and better things, and I'll be stuck here lookin' after Liam's bloody turtle."  
  
"Nothin's better than you," Niall tells him, confident. "Bigger, maybe," he adds, the corner of his mouth curling a little.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Got a jokester on our hands here. Proper David Mitchell." His fingers flex around Niall’s, tightening almost unconsciously. "Taylor's well fit, though, isn't she? And friends with all kinds of posh types, and you know Harry fancies the pants off her." He pauses, frowning. "Not literally, I hope."  
  
"Don't think she'd let him literally, whether he wanted to or not. I wouldn't worry about that," Niall says, laughing a little. Then he pauses, and his voice is serious. "You really scared, though?"  
  
Louis looks down at his lap, shoulders hunching a little. "Like I said. It's just a - thing. For me. People leaving me, like. Seen it happen too much, I reckon. People find something better, move on, life happens, I guess."  
  
"Not gone anywhere, have I?" says Niall, soft as he picks up one of Louis's palms, traces over it with his fingertips, firm enough that it doesn't tickle. "Zayn never went anywhere, not permanently. And everyone who left you was bloody missing out, hey. Nothin’ better than you."  
  
Louis turns his hand so he can catch Niall's in his own, smiling softly. "What would I do without my Nialler to talk sense into me, hm?" And he pulls Niall's hand up to kiss the back of it.  
  
"Good thing y' don't have to worry about that," Niall’s a little flushed, even after much time and countless kisses. "Harry really wants to see her. We could at least give him a chance, I dunno. I know it seems like no big deal but he really, really fancies her, Lou. Odds are it probably won’t last the winter, but."  
  
"You're right, 'course," Louis says, "genuinely dunno if Liam'll be alright, though. He was in a pretty bad way last time she was here."  
  
"Liam keeps saying he'll be fine," Niall says, shrugging a little. "And we know he's lying, but what do you do about that then?"  
  
"Wash me hands of you lot and go bunk with Brez for the week and take Liam with me?" Louis says wryly and then more seriously, "I honestly don't know. He could stay with Nick, obviously, but I - this might be something he needs to do, for himself, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," says Niall. "I dunno. That's your bit, I think." He nuzzles closer to Louis. "Just need to know you’re okay. ‘n if you're not, can I help?"  
  
Louis shifts a little so he can press his forehead to Niall’s. Says very quietly and gently, "My love, you already have."  
  
Niall’s eyes flutter closed, and his cheeks are pink again, but he’s smiling.  
  
"Are you okay?" Louis asks after a minute of letting himself just _be_ with Niall. "With all of this, I mean? Taylor and Haz ‘n everything."  
  
Niall considers it for a moment. "I don't know," he says, eventually. "I'm not sure about her but - 'm not scared like Liam must be." His voice gets tough in the way that Louis knows is just to stop it breaking down, "She's nothing like my - y’know. So the association isn't there." He continues, almost mumbling. "Don't love it when you lot fight, mostly."  
  
Louis pulls an awful face. "I really am sorry about that, Ni. We shouldn't have, especially not with you and Liam in the next room. _I_ shouldn't have." He adds, "It's okay, if she makes you uncomfortable for other reasons to tell us, yeah? Doesn't have to be rooted in something awful."  
  
"S' okay," says Niall, "thanks. And - yeah, guess I will. I've been - I've been doing better, I think? Don't want to speak too soon, but." He shrugs one shoulder, looking a bit shy about it. 

"Definitely," Louis agrees immediately. “I'm so proud of you, you're definitely doing so much better. I know there'll be bad days still, but on the whole I definitely agree."  
  
Niall smiles, rests his cheek down on Louis's shoulder. "Thanks. Feels good. Weird, a bit, but."  
  
"Weird how?" Louis asks, freeing one hand so he can play with Niall's hair, the other still holding Niall's and stroking gently over the back of it with a thumb.  
  
"Different," says Niall, the words coming out a bit jumbled, "but more - the same? More like - I dunno, it's like I'm me from before again, but really not - at the same time. Sorry," he huffs a laugh that doesn’t really sound very amused. "That doesn't make any sense."  
  
"No, I think I get it," Louis says slowly. "Maybe it's like when you go outside for the first time after being cooped up for a few days, or for most of the winter or whatever, and you take a deep breath and it's just like. You're remembering, yeah, that breathing fresh air is something that exists? And it's a bit. Not that you forgot, exactly, just that you couldn't quite get to it for a long time, so you - you put it away, what it felt like to breath it in, and it's only once you come out the other side that you can remember it properly again."  
  
Niall doesn’t respond for a long moment. Then, "Yeah," he says, hushed and with almost a tinge of awe, "yeah, s' just like that." He swallows. "It's never gonna go away fully, though, is it."  
  
Louis hums thoughtfully. "I dunno. Obviously it depends on the person and the situation and all that, doesn't it, but - when I think of us a year ago, and how you couldn't take even leaving the bedroom some days, and how I was just a complete arse all the time and all that, and then you look at us now - I think it could still. Y'know. Get better than this. Even if it never does go away fully, yeah? And it brought you to me, and I'm - I'm grateful for that, Niall, I really am, even though I hate what they did to you ‘n still want to rip out some throats. Bein' honest."  
  
Niall sighs, but it's not a sad sigh, and he’s snuggling closer as he breathes, "Love you."  
  
"Love you too," Louis says, turns his head to kiss Niall's temple. "So so much, Nialler. 've missed you. This."  
  
"Me too," Niall admits. "Thought it was weird to miss you when I see you all the time, but." He traces the inside of Louis's elbow with one light fingertip, "reckon it was this I missed."  
  
Louis nods. "Need to set up cuddling time with just you and I, don't we? Tuesdays at seven work for you?"  
  
"I -" Niall bites his lip. "Only if you're not too busy?"  
  
"Never want to be too busy for you." It comes out fiercer than he’d planned, but he means it. "I'd probably just be doing stupid shit like mucking about with Liam or pulling rubbish pranks on Harry anyway. Let's do it from now on. Seven to at least eight, Tuesdays, I'm all yours."  
  
Niall wriggles a little, hums happily before saying, "Wow, okay. If you're serious, yeah, I’d love to."  
  
"'m always serious," Louis says with as straight a face as he can manage. "It's my middle name, actually."  
  
Niall cracks up, laughing half into Louis’ shoulder, and Louis feels that surge of pleased satisfaction he always gets from making Niall laugh. He twists so he's lying almost on top of Niall, blows a raspberry into Niall's neck. "Oi, are you laughing at me? Laughing at your alpha is a very serious offense, young Niall, I think I might be offended."  
  
And here’s Niall, being so much better that he doesn't even double-take at the suggestion that Louis is offended. If anything he just laughs harder, squirming wildly and kicking feebly.  
  
Louis says, mock-indignant, "How very dare you! Such impertinence! You leave me no choice." And he leans in and begins tickling Niall, careful to avoid his back and wrists.  
  
"Ah! Louis - Louiiiis," Niall’s eyes are tearing up from laughter as he squirms underneath Louis's hands. "Stop!"  
  
"Never!" Louis says, accent gone very posh, "My honour is at stake! Cease thy struggles, Sirrah, and mayhaps I will yet be merciful!"  
  
"I beg of thee," Niall manages, through his shrieks, “else I perish of laughter!”

"Grant me a boon," Louis says sternly, sounding almost lordly before he ruins it by leaning over and blowing another raspberry against Niall's stomach.  
  
"I offer -" Niall breaks off to gasp for breath, "breakfast tomorrow morning, in return for being spared."  
  
Louis taps a finger against his mouth. "Hmm. Very well, t'will suffice. Up, varlet, methinks I do hear the lord of the manor returning."  
  
Niall lays for a moment just giggling, trying to get his breath back, before he sits up.  
  
"There we go," Louis says fondly, dropping back into his normal accent. "Let's go say hello to Zayn, yeah? Love you."  
  
"Love you too," Niall says, the kind of happy-exhausted-teary you only get when you've laughed hard enough to make your sides hurt, and follows Louis downstairs.

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! so i can't promise i'll get around to writing these anytime soon BUT i would love to know - what are you looking forward to seeing more of/what background sort of things would you like to see explained further? thanks so much for being the best readers i could ask for <3


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